


Tender Moment (Excerpt)

by BrbEmbracingMySorcerer



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrbEmbracingMySorcerer/pseuds/BrbEmbracingMySorcerer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has been injured in battle (again) and Arthur has dragged his unconscious form out of harms way to tend to him, while the rest of the knights fight on. Upon waking up, Merlin experiences an unexpectedly tender reaction from Arthur, which inspires new, strange feelings in him - feelings Arthur clearly is unaware of. Gwaine, however, is a little more perceptive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Moment (Excerpt)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an excerpt from my first, in-progress fiction, which I'm uploading just to have something on my page. I've never written anything like this before so bear with it! The full fic should be uploaded in the coming weeks. :)

A dull ache, in his head of all places, was the first thing Merlin felt in the darkness. Then coolness, damp and soft against his cheek. An earthy scent drifted into his nostrils.  
  
With a jump, Merlin came to. His eyes opened and his mind registered that he was, in fact, lying face down in foliage and dirt. He was suddenly aware of how very cold it all was, his cheek felt almost numb. His _whole body_ felt almost numb. He sat upright, too quickly, and the pain and dizziness left him immediately regretting the action. For a moment, he thought he was still in the middle of the battle, but then realised all about him was dark and quiet. And cold. So very cold. Wrapping his arms around himself for warmth, he realised his tunic was pulled up at the back.  
  
Suddenly, warm, soft fingers touched his back, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice was almost a whine. “Stop moving!”  
  
Merlin tried to hold still. “What.. what are you doing?”  
  
“Tending your wounds. Or trying to, at any rate.” The fingers moved along the skin between his shoulder blades, and he winced at the pain.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“You took a beating. From a mace. I dragged you out of there before they killed you.” For a moment, he paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “For a moment, I thought they HAD killed you. I've never seen anyone go down like that. You just... crumpled." Another pause. "And you only went and landed on your own sword! Honestly.”  
  
Merlin could hear the semi-affectionate scowl in Arthur’s voice, and he flushed self-consciously at the sincerity of it. He tried to hold still as Arthur’s fingers moved along his back, cleaning and covering with bandages, and though it pained him, the warmth of those touches was a comfort; and more gentle than he ever would have expected of Arthur.  
  
The softness was considerate – not the rough urgency of hands attending a wound with objective efficiency, but with awareness of the pain they must be causing; the tenderness of trying to avoid further pain. This thought made Merlin flush more deeply, and the comfort he took in the thought also made him feel a little guilty – as though he were stealing a moment of intimacy that was not his to take. And yet, why was it not?  
  
“Thank you,” Merlin said hoarsely.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Arthur returned brightly. “You would do the same for me. I can’t promise I’m doing you a lot of good, though, I’m no physician. How’s your stomach?”  
  
“Sore,” Merlin smiled sheepishly.  
  
“Well there’s a wonder,” Arthur said sternly. “Here, let me have a look.”He waited, expectantly.  
  
Merlin awkwardly turned, trying not to hurt himself too much in the process. “You know,” he grunted, having moved approximately an inch and a half, “it would probably make more sense for you to come round this side than for me to turn, injured as I am and all.”  
  
“Don’t tell me what to do, Merlin,” Arthur scolded, but he moved around to Merlin’s front all the same. Merlin crossed his legs – as least they weren’t hurt in any way – making room for Arthur to kneel in front of him.  
  
Lifting his shirt, Merlin saw Arthur had already placed a rough bandage patch over the wound, but it was spotted with blood that had soaked through, and the skin below it was streaked slightly where thin beads of blood had dripped down. Arthur tutted quietly when he saw it, and Merlin thought he heard Arthur whisper his name under his breath. He felt warmth rush to his cheeks again, and he cursed his own transparency, but he also felt something else – a twitch in his gut when Arthur touched his belly.  
  
Arthur gently removed the patch, and he nodded slightly when he saw the wound. “It’s more superficial than I thought - the bleeding appears to have stopped. It just needs cleaning and rebandaging.”  
  
“I can do that,” Merlin offered, now becoming distinctly uncomfortable with Arthur’s touch. “Here, just give me the water and bandages.”  
  
“I would, but you might do yourself further damage,” Arthur said cheerfully. He paused, and then added, “it will only take a minute.” Using a cool, damp cloth he gently dabbed and smoothed away the blotches of dark, dirty red from Merlin’s skin – so gently - first around the wound itself, then gradually drawing the cloth down along the streaks of dried blood. Merlin endured it at first, that awful conflict of knowing he should not be enjoying Arthur’s touch, not understanding why he did, and yet, enjoying it all the time. He looked around the camp to distract himself – Arthur had built a feeble fire a few feet away behind them – wonders would never cease – and a couple of bedrolls had been laid out with some blankets. Suddenly, he felt something different – a slight tug at the top of his pants. He couldn’t hold back a surprised whimper – and Arthur met his eyes suddenly, full of concern, thinking he had caused pain. “Sorry, a little of the blood has dripped down.”  
  
Oh God, Merlin thought, utterly bewildered by the fleeting thought that Arthur was actually going to stick his hand down Merlin’s pants.  
  
But that was not his intention - instead he merely hooked a little finger over the top of Merlin’s pants and pulled the smallest amount, creating space to sweep the cloth in just along the waistline, wiping away the last of the blood. Merlin could take no more, however, as he felt the twitching in his gut sink further down, becoming an entirely more solid sensation.  
  
 _Oh God!!_  
  
“Arthur!” Merlin choked out, grabbing those invasive hands, now genuinely panicked. Arthur, startled by the ouburst, paused momentarily; and suddenly a flash of light off to their right caught both their attention.  
  
Gwaine walked into the clearing, and here is what he saw:  
  
Merlin, each of his hands gripping each of Arthur’s, looking for all the world like he was holding on rather than trying to push him away, a burning blush colouring his pale skin. Arthur, leaning over Merlin, several fingers busy with Merlin’s pants, two gently pulling the waistband away from his body and three more pushed slightly down below said waistline.  
  
All three men froze, two staring blankly at Gwaine as Gwaine eyed King and servant with suspicion. All at once - ‘Gwarthulin!”- they spoke each others names, breaking the awkward silence.  
  
And all at once, Arthur realised how this might look, and in order to dispel any confusion, he made a slightly exaggerated show of running the cloth around the wound again, and quickly applying a new bandage, telling Merlin how he was very fortunate and that he should be absolutely fine. Merlin was on the verge of tears, and his kept his head down as he mumbled a tiny “thank you”. Fortunately, Arthur was too preoccupied with his own sudden embarrassment to notice Merlin’s. He stood as soon as the bandage was applied and turned to Gwaine.  
  
“Gwaine! It’s good to see you.” The two men clasped arms near the elbow and embraced briefly. “Where are the others?”  
  
Gwaine, still not entirely sure what he had just seen, shifted his gazed slightly to Merlin, the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement, as he replied that the others were not far behind him.

*End of Excerpt!*


End file.
